


You're Not There

by prettyskylark



Category: Better Call Saul (TV), Breaking Bad
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Related, Character Study, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-08-23 14:30:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16620800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyskylark/pseuds/prettyskylark
Summary: Gene the Cinnabon manager and Kim Wexler are two different people now, living two different, separate lives. Until they don't.Fate seems to not be able to keep these two apart.





	1. I only got you in my stories and you know I tell them right

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a song "You're not there" by Lukas Graham. Give it a listen, I swear it's a McWexler song and the lyrics is killing me.  
> Here's a link  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zsmFTEP1Rk
> 
> I'm fairly new to the fandom but am feeling very fruitful today so instead of paying attention to any of my classes, I spent 7 hours sitting at university starting this piece. I hope you like it :)

When he came in to work that day, it didn’t feel like anything groundbreaking would happen today. Maybe that was the worst thing about his cinnamon-scented Purgatory. That each and every day was the same so they blurred into one big joke of his life. No, not his life. The life of Gene. He kept telling himself that every single morning, even though he barely recognized the face that looked back at him in the mirror.

He was a manager now, what a glorious title to his name. Gene the Cinnabon manager. He climbed to the top of the ladder he was standing on, probably the only ladder he’d be able to climb for the rest of his existence. But it went all accordingly to the plan, that’s the least he still could do, without breaking the agreement, risking his life. Because it clearly was a life worth treasuring so much.

"Hey, boss, how much longer in the oven?"

He was startled from his thoughts by Janet, a lanky brunette he was working with. She was waiting for his response, a kind and oblivious look on her face. Back to reality it is.

He went back to work, knowing the nits and grits of his schedule so well he could do it with his eyes closed. He worked methodically on the dough, glazed some of the already prepared cinnamon buns then switched with Janet after lunch and worked at the cash register for a bit, then back to the dirty dishes. He didn’t mind doing the dishes that much. He found it kind of relaxing, the hot water running over his gloves, a big stack of dough-smeared bowls and greasy trays slowly being replaced by clean ones. He got lost in it so much that he didn’t notice a spoon angling itself just right to hit back a stream of water and splash it right onto the leg of his pants.

He thought about cursing, about throwing everything against a wall and breaking into pieces. He just sighed, turned off the tap and reached out to get a paper towel.

“Gene, can you replace me at the register for a five?”

“In a minute!”

When he finally came through the door he saw the last customer Janet was taking the cash from. A customer he would have had to talk to, hadn’t he spent a moment drying off his pants just now. He stood there, frozen on the spot, not really feeling anything for a few seconds, as if he had left his body and was watching everything from afar. Maybe that was the moment he would drop from a heart attack. It surely felt like it.

She was already turning away from him so he only got a glimpse of her face. And even though her hair was different, not in a sleek ponytail anymore but a tad bit shorter and messier, sifted through with gentle silver strands, it was still blond, still the color of gold. He heard her say “thank you” in that low, tired voice she would use in the mornings after sleepless nights and the sound of that almost took his breath away. And suddenly it felt like he had never left, like he hadn’t died and had been reborn as someone else completely, as if they still shared an office and a bed.

Kim.

He watched her, fixated on every move, engraving this moment into his brain until she sat down and looked up. Accidently, what felt like, directly at him.

He leaped to the floor, heart hammering a hole through his ribcage. Janet stared at him in surprise.

“Boss, is everything all right?”

“Yeah, just, um, it’s nothing. I just, um, you know, dropped this thing—Um…”

“Can I get take that five now?”

Take a five. He would have to stand at the register. Take orders. Be seen. Be spotted by Kim. That would not happen, could not happen. Quick, Gene, think!

Gene. Was that who he was now? Who he really was? Should he think like Saul now or like Jimmy? Could he still be those people or he closed that door behind him for good?

Adrenaline oiled the gears in his brain, making them turn, coming up with a lie and he could almost feel it on his tongue, tasting sweet and juicy, the way Janet’s eyes would glint with sincerity when she fell into the trap and he’d be back in the game, still capable of—

At the corner of his eye, he saw Kim stand up, throw away an emptied paper bag and walk away, her blond hair swaying slightly with every stiff, sharp step she took. Walking away from his life again. Walking away from the danger he would inevitably put her in.

Jimmy felt his heart slowing down, the dizziness and lightness in his head going away. He felt drunk with it. It took him a moment to realize what that was. Fear and excitement. Feelings. For a few minutes he was Jimmy again, or at least a shadow of him and he had Kim to thank for that. To blame for that. If he wanted to live, he knew that could never happen again. If he wanted to survive, he would never live again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It means a lot. Lord help me and let me stay motivated enough to finish this story.


	2. I remember you and I when I'm awake at night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 from Kim's POV.

Being back in Ohama felt like stepping into a time-warp.

It’s been over 20 years since she’s lived here and walked those streets but it felt as if not a day has passed. The same trees grew along the cracked sidewalks and the same banners adorned the fronts of small shops that haven't changed one bit since she was in high school. And yet, even though it was her hometown, she has never felt more out of place, out of her comfort zone. Alone.

She came back only for the weekend this time, to help her younger sister with the wedding preparations. They’ve never been close, especially not since their father’s passing away, but if there’s anything that Kim has learned during her shaky journey through life was that even though your family was trash, it was still your family. She couldn’t be more different from Liv even if she tried and God, did she try. When Kim was more reserved and emotionally unavailable, Olivia was outgoing, open and very naïve. But she was a good person and despite their many disagreements, Kim knew how much she meant to her sister, even though she never understood Kim's need for more. Besides, with their mother’s poor health, it could be their last family gathering. No matter how busy or averse to human interaction Kim was as of lately, she could not take that away from Liv.

And human interaction proved to be the biggest issue. Being a lawyer was working with people, that one was certain. But it felt as if Kim has been spending more time surrounded by files and the steady tapping of computer’s keyboard rather than human faces and voices. Being thrown right in the middle of the social hurricane that was wedding preparations made Kim want to retreat back to her work cave lined with blissfully silent sheets of paper. Constant meaningless chatter and never-ending disputes over baby pink or light mauve napkins. A chocolate cake with vanilla icing or vanilla cake with chocolate icing. White ball gown with an open back or an ivory mermaid with long sleeves. It was not a language Kim spoke well. She knew how to talk business, take-away dinner and filing motions. The only time she knew how to talk about nothing in particular that meant everything, letting it out and being able to communicate without overthinking every twitch of a nerve didn’t exist anymore, that life didn’t exist anymore, along with the people in it. A person. One person.

No. Not important.

Funnily enough, she had hoped this gateway would be her break from work, a way for her to unwind. It turned out to be the opposite so she left Olivia with her friends to ponder the right shoes that went with a dress she hasn’t decided on yet and went for a walk. Maybe she’ll even look at some of the files she took with her and make some phone calls.

The weather was quite chilly for an early October and she surprised herself by missing the Albuquerque heat a little bit. The city was a small one, she could cross the entire thing from one end to the other in short four hours. She passed her high school, observing the young, hopeful faces that spent their lunch break outside. She spotted a group of football players laughing loudly, with pretty girls ogling them with hungry eyes. And far away from them sat a quiet couple, a boy and a girl, both of them reading books in silence, their shoulders touching and feet brushing against each other. Kim looked away. Something inside of her stirred and she killed it before it bloomed into something harder to get rid of.  
They had built a new shopping center that she hasn’t seen before, quite a big one for Ohama, that surely attracted many people, if not to shop then just to look around and spend time doing something other than drinking and talking sports. She felt her stomach grumble. Maybe it was a time for a quick break with something to eat.

Kim was a big fan of takeaway, not only because it was convenient, with how little time she had outside of work, but mostly because she couldn’t cook for shit. She didn’t eat much anyway, never felt the need to. She let herself wander through the mall, without much interest, before she smelled a heavy, sweet scent of cinnamon and made her way to a promising place called Cinnabon. She barely made it through the door when she heard a voice that made her stop dead in her tracks.

“In a minute!”

A low, hoarse voice, like a thunder rumble that could have gone unnoticed unless Kim knew what to look for. She couldn’t have forgotten, no matter how hard she tried. Sometimes he came to her in her dreams and she hated those, truly hated those, because they would show him in a way that she wanted to remember him and the way she actually remembered him before he left. She didn’t know which one was worse.

Out of all the places he could have escaped to, it had to be Ohama, goddamn Jimmy. Kim had a split second to decide what to do. She could turn on her heel and leave, run out of the mall and into the crisp air until her heart calmed down. She could forget this ever happened, get in her car, send an apology card to Liv saying something came up, a life or death situation at work that put her entire career at stake and—

No. Not important.

She couldn’t give him that power over her, no way. Whether they met face to face or not, that skeleton in her closet would never stop hunting her and Kim only had herself to blame. Maybe that was for the better, maybe that was the life he wanted, without telling her anything, without explanation, maybe he had his reasons that he didn’t want, couldn’t tell her and it’s been too long anyway, she’s even lost count—

(it’s been 4 years, 5 months and 6 days)

No. Not important. It meant nothing. She could do this.

“Hi, welcome to Cinnabon. What can I get you?”

“Um, hi, just a single one to go, please.”

Her voice didn’t even break. You go, Kim.

Her hands shook when she paid but the receptionist, Janet, Kim read on her nametag, didn’t say anything. She kept glancing to the back, to where he must have been just a moment ago and hoped for just a glimpse, just to make sure she didn’t go crazy. And then, just when she was turning around and starting to leave, she saw Jimmy peaking from behind a wall, too hidden and far away for her to read his face but it was him, she knew, and almost choked with the realization. She didn't know whether he saw her or not, she couldn't turn back so she kept walking, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth until she sat down at one of the tables to eat the pastry. God, she lost the last bit of appetite she had had.

Kim weighted her options while taking the cinnamon bun apart with her fingers, not really eating the pieces. She could march up to him and demand explanations, slap him, kiss him (no, that was not an option), yell or not say anything at all, just stare him down. But that was not Kim Wexler. She wasn’t raw emotions, acting on impulses, throwing caution to the wind. She was not Olivia. Kim was a lawyer that thought things through and dug. She dug stuff up, collected evidence, prepared herself before doing anything. And that’s what she was going to do.


	3. So give it up for fallen glory I never got to say goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They keep dancing, circling each other. It's just a matter of time before they meet in the middle.

It became a sort of a ritual for her.

She started with coming to Cinnabon every week when she drove to Nebraska to help Olivia with the wedding preparations. Then she miraculously found herself a client in a town just a half an hour drive from Omaha. She stayed at a hotel four days a week, not wanting to impose on her sister’s hospitality but also needing her space, not wanting to go crazy if she was going to do this.

She worked out his schedule quite fast and went there every day after her working hours. She would always buy one cinnamon bun, sit outside of Cinnabon but close enough to observe everything without having to use binoculars (that would sure as hell draw unwanted attention in the middle of a shopping mall).

Kim made it a game of some sorts. Comparing the Jimmy she knew to the Jimmy she stumbled upon. She collected those differences and filed them carefully into the boxes of her mind while collecting the similarities and placing them somewhere else.

(somewhere dangerously close to her heart)

He had less hair on his head and more hair on his upper lip, that awful mustache of his that could make him unrecognizable to most people. He still held himself quite high although a little hunched, the same way he used to. He wore glasses, she couldn’t make out if for disguise or medical reasons. Of course, he got older, grew little extra wrinkles that crossed his face but none of them came from smiling. Actually, that was the biggest difference that Kim spotted. She never saw him smile. A little, polite quirk to the corner of his lips when he was talking to customers but none of his old playful behavior made it to this day. To Gene. Because she knew that was the name he was using now. Kim had a bit of an inkling why he had found himself in this situation, although in their last days he barely had told her anything, for her own good for sure.

Suddenly her cell phone rang, startling Kim out of her thoughts. She saw Liv's name on the caller's ID.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi! I hope I’m not interrupting” before Kim had a chance to say that she, in fact, did a little, although Kim still wasn’t sure what it was that she was interrupting exactly “I need your help with something. I ordered a bunch of bouquets for the reception and even paid for them in advance and now this asshole says he doesn’t know anything, has never seen the money and will not deliver. It sounds like something my lawyerly sister can handle.”

“Um, yeah, sure. I’m on my way.”

Kim made her way to the mall’s parking lot to the car she had rented. Before getting inside, she dug out a pack of cigarettes from her bag. She put one between her lips and lit it with her eyes closed, taking a long drag that sizzled and exhaling a grey cloud of smoke with satisfaction. What was she doing anyway? Where was all of this going? What did she want to achieve? She didn't have answers to any of these questions but within that personal investigation of hers, she found a weird sense of peace. The peace she hasn't felt in a long time—

(4 years, 5 months and 23 days)

A quiet voice at the back of her head tried to yell at her, steer her away from this madness, knowing full-well whatever she found at the end will hurt like hell. She was prying a closed door open with a crowbar. People always said that curiosity killed the cat. What they never say is the end of that phrase – that satisfaction brought him back.

She threw the end of her burnt cigarette to the ground, stomped it with the heel of her boot and got into her car. She had so much work to do.

* * *

  
It became a sort of a ritual for him.

Kim would appear during his shifts and he didn't know if it was one big cosmic joke that the universe wanted to officially kill him with or if she was doing that on purpose. If she even knew who he was. Omaha was, after all, her hometown and it was not a coincidence he escaped here, out of all the places in the world. If he had to leave her behind, at least he could live where there was a piece of her. So he was aware of the possibility of them running into each other, he just never hoped, no, worried that he would have to brace himself for that.

She would order one cinnamon bun and sit at a table doing some paperwork, probably working on big noble cases, being successful, without a walking disaster like him bringing her down every step of the way. Okay, that was not fair. Back in the day, Jimmy believed he was doing the right thing, although most of the times it would blow in both of their faces.

He hid himself the best way he could, working extra hard with the dough-making and cleaning up just to get himself out of working at the register, for fear of them coming face to face. And at the rare moment of his breaks, instead of wandering through the mall and eating lunch by himself on a bench, he had found himself a nice little spot he knew there was no way she could see him from, but he had a perfect view at her.

Jimmy made it a game of some sorts. Comparing the Kim he remembered and cherished in his mind despite his better judgment to the Kim sitting away from him, not far enough and yet too far, always too far. There was a determined twist to her lips that he knew so well and adored, even though it had mostly meant trouble for him in the past. Her hair was cut shorter, the blond tips reaching her shoulders, giving her even a firmer, more professional look. From what he could see she gained some grey hairs but it somehow made her only more beautiful, now shining with gold and silver. She was aging like fine wine.

(he tried to stop himself from thinking about wine-testing in this context, he failed miserably)

On some days she wore her business clothes, usually a pencil skirt, a blouse, and a jacket but sometimes she wore jeans and soft sweaters that swallowed up her small frame. He suspected on her more formal days she was coming back straight from work, which only proved his theory that she scored a client somewhere nearby, hence her visits. She had told him in the past she had a younger sister that she had left behind in Omaha, but he had no idea if she still lived here. He didn’t want to sniff around too much, not to draw too much attention to himself and get caught.

So that was all he had. Those stolen moments of memorizing her face, her furrowed brows, messy hair that would fall on her face because she didn't put it in a ponytail anymore. Afterward, he would come to that empty apartment he had to call home and would hate himself. Hate himself for doing that, for not being able to let go and scrapping the old wound open again until he bled to death.

Jimmy knew it was a coincidence that he shouldn’t enjoy it while it lasted because once it ended he would have to start all over again. Kill Jimmy McGill and put him back to the grave, this time for good. That was a life he consciously left behind and there was no coming back, whether he liked it or not. This time no amount of the ol’ McGill charm could help him out of this. A con artist got conned by life itself.

He had an only a couple of minutes before he had to come back to work. He watched Kim take a phone call, huff in annoyance, get up and get going. A metal hand squeezed what was left of Jimmy's heart. He never knew when was the last time he would see her here. So before he could think better of it, he got up as well and followed her to the parking lot. He kept a safe distance, in case she suddenly turned around and saw him. She got to her car and got out a pack of cigarettes. Jimmy felt a small smile forming on his lips. He was glad that hasn’t changed, even though it was a nasty habit. He remembered all the cigarettes they had shared in the past, going back to their mailroom days. It somehow always brought them comfort, when words failed they could stand in silence sharing a cigarette, their fingers brushing when they passed it to one another. They were never big on PDA, but they made every little thing count. At least, to Jimmy, it did.

He watched Kim smoke till she finished the cigarettes and crushed it under the heel of her boot. Before she got into her car, Jimmy saw her face go a little blank, a heavy look in her eyes, her brow furrowed just a little bit. He knew that look. Something was bothering her, a problem she was desperately trying to solve and knowing her, she would, sooner or later. He just prayed to whatever God there was out there that the problem wasn’t named Jimmy McGill.

Too bad God doesn’t answer to sinners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks for reading! My apologies if anything's against canon, I'm currently halfway through season 3 so there may be some differences because I just don't now everything yet.
> 
> I'll try to update as fast as I can, seeing as that's the end of the chapters I had written but keep your fingers crossed I don't give up!


	4. I wish I could ask for just a bit more time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godamnit for whatever reason writing this chapter was a bitch. I kept rewriting it and deleting and replacing parts of it and seemed to have trouble getting it right. This is the final product. I'm satisfied with it and hope from now on it'll get easier, since I do have a clue of what will happen next. Hope you'll enjoy!

All this time Kim had promised herself not to get involved. To not even look at it. The less she knew the better. Even when the whole thing had made it to the news, when he had disappeared, she had promised herself not to dig into this mess.

She was currently sitting crossed-leg on hotel’s cheap carpet. Pieces of newspapers and printed out files spread in front of her like tarot cards. Fraud. Drugs. Cartels. Laundering dirty money. DEA. Dead bodies.

“ _Jesus_ , Jimmy—” she muttered under her breath.

Saul Goodman was the greatest con job Jimmy has ever pulled. Not only an entire persona but an entire business built on desperate criminals and looking for loopholes. Most of the time, creating them. Bending the law to his will so much it was coming apart at the seams. The complete opposite of who Chuck McGill was. Of who he had wished Jimmy could have been.

God, she needed a drink.

She walked past many grocery stores until she found one that seemed somehow satisfactory. Deserted, alienated, full of liquor. Neon signs of the store flashed in bright blues and yellows. These places always seemed to be somehow distant from the rest of the world. Especially at an hour like this. There was no time, nothing that truly mattered, only a long aisle of colorful alcohol bottles, salty snacks, and a bored yet slightly judgmental stare of an acne-covered teenager standing behind the counter.

She grabbed a bottle of whiskey without even look at the price tag and almost slammed it onto the counter.

Kim wasn’t ready to get back to her hotel room, not yet. To the story of Saul Goodman, somehow unreal and so so different from Jimmy McGill. Or maybe she was just kidding herself. Maybe that's what she has been doing all along. Jimmy was a con man, a con artist and she had witnessed him committing a felony, he had done that even for her that one time and even though she had huffed and puffed and even hit him for it she had accepted that gift with silent gratitude. She had even participated in some of his scams, for Christ’s sake. They had called him doing it “the colorful way”, his way, back then. And piece by piece he had got out of control, more of a criminal than a criminal lawyer.

Kim wrapped the bottle in a newspaper and, after barely leaving the store, she took a sip, the golden liquid making its burning way down her throat. Kim felt like smashing it to the ground, yelling, packing up her stuff and leaving all of this behind her. Suddenly she was thankful for him disappearing on her like that, for keeping her in the dark. Because she couldn't stand that side of him, couldn't stand _herself_ for accepting it. For never being able to let go.

She started walking towards her hotel, passing identical houses with small porches. It was almost 3 in the morning so most people slept soundly in their beds, their lamps turned off and blinds closed. Only a few houses emitted a soft glow from TV’s still playing in their living-rooms. She wondered what kept them up at night. She certainly knew what kept _her_ up.

Maintaining her usual level of dedication towards work and conducting that little investigation of hers at the same time proved to be way harder than Kim had thought. She knew she was a little out of it, a little distracted. She still worked harder and better than most people but less than the Kim Wexler’s very best. It made her even more irritated, an itch she could not scratch enough to stop bothering her until it was gone for good, solved.

She smiled through the family dinners, hummed and shook her head when needed. It was somehow pleasant, to play this role of an attentive and socially-adept sister and she felt a pang of guilt for abandoning that part of her life in order to pursue a career in law. And then her heart would speed up at every mention of any neighbor, anyone that may know who Gene was and where he was from. Kim had to bite her tongue not to start asking direct questions, knowing full-well that obvious interest on her part would blow Jimmy's cover. She knew for sure now he was hiding, trying to avoid going to jail or God knew what else. So she stayed quiet, trying to discreetly street the conversation towards what she was most interested in and collected every single information. 

He was a good actor, she has always known that, having seen him coning people numerous times. He stuck to this Gene character that he’d created, a total opposite of Saul Goodman or even Jimmy. Quiet. Polite. Plain. This girl she saw him working with, Janet, turned out to be Kim’s friend’s younger cousin. That’s how Kim found out Gene’s been working at the Cinnabon for almost 2 years now, starting from the lowest position and quickly becoming a manager, thanks to his honest hard work and dedication. People had a vague idea of where he lived but no one knew him well enough to ever having been invited over.

She suddenly collided with someone. Kim recognized his posture, the sharp intake of his breath, even though her brain had a hard time processing the face she was seeing up close. What hit her most was the familiar scent of his cologne, one that he hasn’t changed after all these years they’ve known each other.

“Jimmy—”

They stood there, both floored, staring at each other, speechless. She had thought about this moment so many times, but in her head, it never went like this. In her head, she was prepared, knew what to say. She had it all under control. None of these things happened now. Kim reached out and grabbed him by the arm when he turned abruptly to walk away without a word.

He jerked forward to make her let go and for a moment he did stop and faced her. There was so much fear in Jimmy’s eyes and so much pain, it felt like a slap to Kim’s face. So she let go.

She wished she had said something. Yelled, maybe. She wished he had yelled back. Instead, Kim turned on her heel to not see him walking away and went back to the hotel, her mind completely blank.

She brushed her teeth to get rid of the sandpaper-like feeling on her tongue, gulped down a glass of water with aspirin still sizzling in it and got into her car. The sun was raising when she turned on the radio, turned it up to a deafening level and drove back to Albuquerque. Leaving Jimmy behind, without looking back.


	5. Every step I take you used to lead the way now I'm terrified to face it on my own

He slammed the door so hard the windows rattled dangerously in their frames. His heart hammered so hard in his chest, all he could hear was the pounding of blood. He very rarely cried but if he had to save it for those special moments in his life, he felt like now would be the perfect time to let it all out.

And yet, Jimmy didn’t cry, couldn’t cry, not with what he was feeling. To be quite honest, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. Pain after seeing her again and having to let her go, anger at himself for screwing it all up, happiness and relief after being so close to her. What kind of sick joke was the universe pulling on him, he didn’t know and he almost laughed at the nonsense of it all, of his life.

Those late night walks were all that Jimmy had. Being able to let go of all the layers, lies and walls he’s put up and just walk, having no one to bother him and no one to pretend to. He would leave his house at 2 am every other night to watch people without the fear of being watched and it almost made him feel normal and free. And then of course life had that take that away from his as well, literally putting Kim right on his path.

He hadn’t seen her in a couple of days and on one hand he felt less agitated, less nervous. Without having to lay low even at work, worrying Kim was sitting just a couple of tables away, able to pick him out from the crowd and ruin both of their lives, he almost felt like he had it all under control again. But on the other hand, a quiet voice at the back of his head kept making him look out for her blond hair. He missed her. He already missed that little illusion of her presence.

Muscle memory is a funny thing. Jimmy supposed feelings worked in a similar way. You might think you forgot something, try to pay it no attention and no time in your day until you’re faced with the situation, your mind suddenly blank, so painfully empty the thoughts keep slipping through your fingers and the silence inside your brain almost hurts. And yet, you keep going, falling back into the comforting arms of a habit and without truly realizing it, with no control come back and start right where you left off.

So much have changed and yet Kim’s eyes still were icy-blue up close, her hands tiny yet strong and Jimmy’s fingers had started tingling with the need to put them right into the curve of her waist. He had almost felt the familiar warmth of her body under his hands. Kim still made him feel the need for validation, for acceptance, for deeming worthy not only to be with her but to share her work, something he knew meant the world to her and seemed inseparable from who she was. Back in the day when he had been slipping, not only being Slippin’ Jimmy but slipping away from reality and the shreds of his dignity, she had kept him grounded, guiding him like a moral compass.

Jimmy paced around the house before making his way to the kitchen and taking out a bottle of scotch from one of the cabinets. The bottle was already half empty. He didn’t bother to fetch for a glass. His footsteps echoed like gunshots around the quiet house.

He just wanted to sit in his armchair and drink himself unconscious. Come back to the times when he had done that in his office, worried for his clients and scared for his life. When his life was his or at least there was _something in it._ Jimmy passed a mirror and stopped in his tracks to look at his reflection.

Gene started back at him, tired and hopeless. Focusing his attention on that awful mustache that he would gladly rip off of his face. Funny how such a little thing, so easy to get rid of, made him feel like a complete stranger to himself. Was that who he wanted to be? How he wanted to spend the rest of his life? When other people feared that you had to have your life figured out by your late 20s, he always prided himself on living his life to the fullest, still creating his stories, even if it meant going to jail or having a gun repeatedly held to your head. But it was _living_ nevertheless.

Jimmy sighed and put the bottle down onto the ground. The clock read 5:36 am. He had to get up in about 2 hours if he wanted to make it on time for his morning shift at Cinnabon, along with the November sunrise. He looked in the mirror once again. There was something in there, a spark still smoldering that needed a little work, a little nudge to burn again. He padded back to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine. By the time the familiar scent filled the room, warm fog clouding the windows, he had a little speech prepared for when he would call in sick that day.

* * *

 

The stack of books collected on the table grew with each round Jimmy made around the library. He didn’t remember the last time he had visited one. Probably back in HHM days. God, he missed the simplicity of those times. Only having to worry about passing the bar, paying back the loan he had taken to pay for his car, thinking of creative ways to find an excuse to talk to the slightly intimidating but very gorgeous blonde that had worked with him in the mailroom.

He had all the titles written down on a piece of paper. It was surprising how well stocked the library was. They were lacking only two books he was looking for, but he couldn’t manage without them. He had a lot to go through anyway.

Jimmy sat down to begin the work when he heard someone dropping a book by his chair. He reached to pick it up and froze when he saw the woman extending her arm for her romantic novel.

“Sorry, I’m a bit clumsy.” The woman said with an embarrassed laugh and Jimmy felt his breath leave him with a quiet gasp when he saw a splash of blond in front of him. How many times could one person go into near-cardiac arrest state in one week? It took him a moment to realize that not every blonde had to be Kim and that maybe he was being a little paranoid. But there was something hauntingly familiar about her blue eyes and a small smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Oh, look at the pile you have gotten yourself here” she tilted her head to the side to read the titles better “Well, aren’t you a serious man! You’d get along with my bigger sister, she’s into the law stuff, too.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Out of all people he could have met. Of course.

Gene should have stood up and left, excusing himself with a hurried explanation. He should have fled. But Saul, _Jimmy,_ was tired of running away.

“Is that so?” He replied with polite interest, making his voice as pleasant and smooth as he possibly could at the moment with his hands shaking under the table.

“Yeah, she got all the wits in the family. She's a lawyer, you know. Got her own practice or something. Making all of us really proud. I guess helping people runs in the family ‘cause I work at the hospital. Nothing serious though, just the reception desk. Sorry, I’m rumbling a bit. I’m Liv, by the way. Olivia.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and extended her hand.

“Liv. Nice to meet you.”

“Me too.” Her smile was almost blinding, too familiar. Jimmy was still processing the excess of information she had thrown at him when she took a closer look at him. Seizing him up. Too familiar.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

A slight twitch to his lips. A second of silence. Just a beat too long.

“Gene.”

“Gene. I’ve seen you around.”

“Um, yeah. I work at the Cinnabon in town.”

“That’s right! I knew your face looked familiar. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you a couple of times at the hospital as well.”

He was supposed to blend in with the crowd, not stand out, not draw attention, to be a _nobody—_

God, he missed being somebody. Anybody. Himself. Saul Goodman. Jimmy McGill.

“So… Why do you need all these for? All these books, I mean. Look pretty specific.”

“Just curious about stuff, y’know? I guess you never stop learning. Never know when it might come in handy, yeah?" 

“Yeah. Um, I better get going. I have a lot of stuff to do, got to plan and prepare. I’m getting married soon!” 

“Oh, that’s great! Best of luck.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. See you.”

Liv gave him a little wave goodbye, clutched the romantic novel to her chest and made her way to the exit. Jimmy watched her blond hair, styled in a loose braid sway slightly with every step. He could almost convince himself it was her older sister he was looking at.

Jimmy looked back at the books spread in front of him at the table, eyes skipping over familiar precedents and long-forgotten laws, mulling Liv’s words over in his head. Will she see him around?

Was it bad that he hoped so?

“Hey, Liv. Wait a second!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked what Bob said during one of his interviews, that he believes Jimmy will find a way to break free, to get back to his life. I'm trying to give Jimmy that opportunity. We'll see where it takes him.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. You're not there to celebrate the man that you've made

There was a line of colorful post-it stickers covering the desk from left to right, color-coordinated so that they formed a neat rainbow. Above them laid four notebooks, five pens and a big pile of documents. A stapler left perpendicularly to the keyboard, parallel to three sharpened pencils.  If anyone were to take a picture of it, it would look like a still from Wes Anderson’s movie. Almost painfully neat. Abnormally.

Margaret, Kim’s paralegal of two years, sat in front of the desk, going over her notes and throwing words at her boss with the speed of a gun machine. The phone kept ringing somewhere down the hall. Footsteps stomped behind the door back and forth every five minutes. A low hum of conversation filled the air. It all created music of some sorts, an everyday workplace symphony, but rather to be a thrilling show-stopping number, it served as more of an elevator music in Kim's mind at the moment.

“— who ruled in your favor. After that, a board meeting at 3 and a couple of cases Michael to look through with you, which I pulled and placed on your desk, followed by a—Ms. Wexler, are you still with me?”

“Yes. Keep going.” It came out sharper than Kim had intended. Margaret shuffled her notes nervously and cleared her throat before continuing.

“You have, um, a couple of missed calls from Andrews&Anderson. Mr. Anderson asked about the prep for the upcoming hearing. I sent him a brief but he insisted you met him at his office. You’ve been, um, postponing the meeting for almost three weeks now, Ms. Wexler.”

The rest of the sentence hung unsaid in the air. That if Kim kept handling her client like that, he would drop her eventually. That one client, whose office was too close to where Kim didn’t want to be anymore. She gritted her teeth.

“Call him back. Schedule a meeting for Thursday at 2.”

“But you have a hearing at 11 on Friday—"

“I’ll be back by then, don’t worry.”

* * *

 

“Whatever you choose will be fine. It’s your wedding.”

“I _know_ , but I need some advice. Sometimes you like something and you think it’s good. But what if that’s your guilty pleasure you’re not aware is guilty and it’s actually really tasteless? I need your opinion on this, big sis! You get married only once for the first time, that’s why I’m asking!”

“Can’t you ask one of your friends? Joslyn or Samantha?”

“It’s Sasha and I already did but I wanna hear what you’ve got to say about this. Just take a quick look, it’s gonna take you a minute, I swear, and then—"

A file slipped from under Kim’s arm and fell to the floor, papers scattering everywhere around her. She groaned loudly in frustration. A man passing her by looked at her, surprised and disapproving. The clock struck 11, meaning she already had to be in the courtroom, notes spread on the table, ready, prepared, poised, professional. Her stomach grumbled angrily, reminding her of all the things she didn’t have time for.

“I’ll call you back later.” Kim hung up, not waiting for her sister’s mumbled goodbyes.

She strutted into the courtroom with her head held hide, a tight, polite, confident smile on her lips greeting her clients and opponents for the next two hours, even though her notes were not in order and she felt weak from hunger, exhaustion, nerves. Kim took her place behind the table. She spotted a coffee stain marking the cuff of her otherwise perfectly white shirt. She pulled on the sleeve of her blazer and looked up at the judge. It’s showtime.

* * *

 

“Kim.”

She looked up so fast something snapped in her neck. Roger stood in the doorway to her office, not coming in but not really waiting for an invitation. There was a weird softness and hesitation in his gaze as if he didn't want to scare her. As if she was an animal caught in the headlights.

“Roger. Come in. Is everything alright?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sat up straighter in her comfortable leather chair, suddenly alert. She took her hands off the desk and rested them on her knees, gripping the hem of her skirt. Even though Kim has made partner some time ago, she still treated Roger like someone she should answer to and whose decision could make or break her career.

“Is it about the Foxal v Terrence case? Because I know we came across a bit of a setback but I already spoke to the head of administration at their office and they promised to—"

“No, Kim, you’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you’ve been working very hard these past couple of weeks. Too hard, perhaps” he breathed in and smiled reassuringly at her. “I think you should take a day off. Get some rest.”

“I appreciate your concern but I’m fine.”

“I found a couple of misfiled documents that you were responsible for. Don’t you worry, we already got that fixed and I know it’s not because you don’t apply, because Kim, you do. But you’re exhausted and unfocused and I’m asking you, as a colleague and a boss, to go home and get some rest. For your own good and for the firm. That’s an order.” He finished with a smile, trying to soothe her dread.

“Okay. If you say so.”

“You’ve been visiting your sister lately, is that right? She’s getting married if I remember correctly. Maybe you should spend some time with the family. Unwind. Come back with a fresh mind.”

Kim's mind went to the missed calls from Liv, flashing in bright red every time she looked at her cell phone. In her attempt to cut all the things tying her to Omaha and the past that clearly didn’t want to be disturbed, she distanced herself from her family as well. Again. The wedding was two weeks away. Olivia kept calling her, asking for her opinion, seeking her support, despite Kim’s hostile responses, and it made Kim feel a little ashamed. The town could be big enough for both of them to not cross each other’s paths. She would not let him ruin another thing in her life. Not this time.

"You're right. I'll take a couple of days off. Thank you."

"No problem. We want our team to be the best, don't we?. Sometimes all it takes to achieve that is a little break from work itself." He smiled and she found herself smiling back. Roger was a kind man, very good in his profession. Not a bad-looking one, to boot. And single. She thought about the wedding invitation. _Kimberly Wexler and her plus one._ She let him leave her office.

 


End file.
